Know my Way Around
by hijaubiru7
Summary: In which Eponine caused a trouble at the Les Amis meeting, it was up to Feuilly to find her and set things straight.


Hi everyone! Thank you for spending time to read my story. I hope you enjoy it and please leave me a review when you're done. Have a nice day!

* * *

The beginning of the evening was perfectly fine. They were gathered in the back room basically going on with their usual routine. Of course Enjolras and Combeferre were silently reading and working on a brochure in one corner, Jehan was pondering over his latest poem, Joly was nursing a rather large bump on Bossuet's forehead and Bahorel, Feuilly and Grantaire were drinking over a game of cards in another corner. Marius was absent, and none of them needed to ask where he would most probably be. The only one missing was Courfeyrac, who was off to find Gavroche.

They didn't have any meeting that day but it was still an interesting day. In the previous meeting, it was decided that more people need to be recruited for their cause before they could really take the revolution to the streets. Courfeyrac suggested that they start recruiting female members to make it easier to reach out to the womenfolk, much to Enjolras' hesitation. The latter was doubtful in his ability to convey the same message he did to the members in the presence of a woman, having not talked much to members of the opposite gender. However, when Combeferre calmly pointed out the role of women in the March of Versailles, the blonde-haired leader agreed. So they were all waiting for the first potential member that Gavroche volunteered to invite.

They were rather surprised to find out that the girl who almost constantly following Marius around was in fact Gavroche's older sister. Some of them had seen her hanging around the young Pontmercy, but none of them had really seen her up close. She was barefooted, dressed simply in a dirty white chemise and tattered brown skirt, an old belt tied around her waist. Combeferre and Joly winced seeing her dangerously thin waist, knowing that it wasn't achieved solely with the help of a corset. Her dirty brown hair was pushed over her shoulders down her back, showing her bony shoulders and sunken cheeks, her skin was of an unhealthy complexion. Her rather feral appearance was enhanced by her slightly hunched posture and sharp eyes that seemed to be fixed in an intimidating stare, as if she was ready to pounce on anyone without any warning.

Once Enjolras had finished explaining, all of them only waited in anticipation of what her reaction would be. To everyone's utter horror, out of all possible reactions out there the girl chose exactly to laugh. Literally rolling on the floor laughing, her voice was hoarse for someone her age.

"Monsieur, this is all foolish. You're digging your own grave!" she finally got up from the floor, one hand still pressing down on her stomach to hold back her laughter, while her other hand wiping away the tears that had formed in her eyes. "You're being…. What's the word? When you believed of something that will never happen?" she looked around at them one by one, but the Amis knew better than to say another word, judging from Enjolras who had slowly grown red in the face. "Delusional," Grantaire suddenly offered with a raised glass, a satisfied smirk on his features as he saw Enjolras' flushed expression. "See? You're smarter than me, but even I know that it is foolish idea!" she jumped to her feet in excitement at the word, before letting out a series of laughs again, albeit in a calmer manner this time.

Enjolras tried to further explain to her, but she had already lost her attention by then. While they may be used to sitting and concentrating on work or lectures for hours, the girl spent her days running down the streets, so sitting still was not really one of her strongest points. None of the Amis really sure what happened next, but the girl suddenly bounded out from the room, Enjolras made a futile attempt to stop her, while Grantaire was cheering loudly at the scene unfolding in front of them. "She got my journal," the blonde-haired law student said simply, before leaving the room in attempt to retrieve his possession back. However, they knew by the time the girl hit the streets there would be little chance that their leader can ever catch up to her.

* * *

Eponine turned a few pages of the journal, trying hard to read the lines underneath the dim moonlight. "It seems you are a curious one," a figure stepped out from the shadows, startling her slightly. "How did you find me?" Eponine was surprised to see the wiry man standing a few feet away from her. She remembered him being the one with slightly curly red hair who was drinking in one corner. Under the dim lighting, she could see a satisfied smirk on his face.

"You're not the only one who knows your way around," he said in slightly smug tone. Eponine suddenly felt her neck and cheeks grew warm at the sight of his confident expression. It was a rare occasion for someone to beat her at her own game, so she was rather clueless on how to react. Feuilly too seemed to notice this, and took another confident step closer towards her. "You're interested about the revolution?" he asked her once again, trying to see her face to read her expression better. However, it was proved to be difficult both due to the limited amount of lighting and her unruly hair obstructing her face.

"You're not afraid of the streets, monsieur?" Eponine evaded his question; instead she scooted closer to the edge of the crate and let her feet dangled from the side. Her head tilted slightly to the side in an attempt to appear innocent, but failed considerably due to the gruff nature of her voice. "I've had my shares of living in them," he chuckled and crossed his arms in front of him. He knew he caught her by surprise for the second time judging from the slight jerk of her shoulders. "You never thought of that, did you mademoiselle?" he took another step forward, getting closer towards the crates she was sitting on.

"Eponine," she said curtly and closed the journal. "I beg your pardon, mademoiselle," she blinked twice and looked away from him. "Eponine. That's my name," she said quietly and lifted her face momentarily to meet his eyes. "I'm no mademoiselle," her eyes softened from her earlier glazed look, as did her voice. "That's a beautiful name," Feuilly smiled at her, trying to engage her further in a conversation, but she merely nodded her head once before keeping her head low. The sudden change in her behaviour puzzled him slightly, wondering what made her lost her earlier confidence so abruptly.

"Are you okay, mademoi-" "Don't call me that!" she snapped suddenly and stood up in her place, catching him completely off guard. He opened his mouth to say something more, but decided against it when she lifted her face once again, her eyes pierced into his. "Just because you made it out of the streets doesn't give you the right to mock me," she said through gritted teeth without removing her glare elsewhere. "Monsieur," she added with the most amount of sarcasm she could muster in a single word. Feuilly was even more confused by the sudden outburst. When did he mock her?

"I apologise if I offended you in any way, made- Eponine. But I don't understand what is it that I did wrong," Feuilly too held the eye contact, albeit his gaze was comparably softer compared to her hard, cold look. He calmly made his way to the crates opposite from her and sat down, ignoring her sharp stare scrutinizing his every move. "However, I'm all ears," he said simply and shrugged. His tolerance somehow cooled her down a bit, as he saw her taking a deep breath and pushed her hair away from her face, a habit he noticed in Gavroche as well when the boy tried to control himself.

"You've made it off the streets. I get that. But you don't have to make me feel bad about myself for not being at the same level as you. You're just a street rat like me, and nothing is going to change that! No matter what kind of clothing you had on your back or the kind of company you have, it's not going to change the fact that you're from the gutter too," she uttered each word with such anger, and he could only wince hearing the hurtful words that she threw at him. The looks in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine that for a moment, Feuilly regretted not bringing along one of his friends along to find the girl. If looks can kill, he was sure he would have died a hundred times over.

"Yes, I used to live in the streets, but I've managed to make a honest living since then," Feuilly said in defence as he tried to keep his emotions in check even with the nasty words she said, but he was caught completely off guard when she suddenly shrieked and threw the journal right into his face.

"What the hell was that for?" he shouted angrily as he threw the journal aside, finally raising his voice at her for the first time.

"How dare you rub all that honest living shit on my face!" she too raised her voice to match his, not intimidated one bit when he rose to his full height, a full head over her.

"That's how I got off the streets! If you're so disgusted by it, no one's forcing it down your throat!" he chose to remain in his spot, not trusting himself to maintain his calmness if he was closer towards her.

Eponine bit her lower lip and cursed under her breath, her hands balled up into fists at both sides. "So you're disgusted with me, monsieur?" she spoke calmly now, although he could tell she was gritting her teeth. Feuilly knew he could have just walked away now that he got the journal back. He could have just gone back home to get some well-deserved rest for his work tomorrow instead of dealing with the gamine, but there was something about her that seemed intriguing to him.

Perhaps it was the way she acted all angry and frustrated, but her eyes told him a different story. Or the way her body trembled with anger yet tears had started brimming in her eyes, threatened to fall down her dirty cheeks any moments soon. Inwardly, Feuilly cursed his inability to see someone else cry, no matter how angry he himself might be.

"I never said that," he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Eponine. I shouldn't be angry at you for stating your views when I'm the one who asked you to do so. Let's just settle this calmly. We're both tired and want to go home for the day," he said and let out another long sigh, before he held out his hand at her. She only stood silently as she shifted her gaze in alternate between his hand and his face.

After several moments passed, Feuilly dropped his hand with another sigh and kept both his hands in his pockets instead. He picked up Enjolras' journal and started to make his way towards the direction of his home, glad that the incident passed without much of bloodshed despite her indifference in achieving a truce between them.

"I'm sorry too, monsieur," it was almost incoherent, but he could hear it clearly in the silence of the night. Feuilly glanced over his shoulder, a bit unsure of what he had just heard. She was biting her lower lip, but the whole air around her felt different from earlier. He turned to face her completely, although maintaining the distance between them. "I shouldn't hurt you when you're just trying to be nice," she mumbled the words, and looked away from him. Clearly apologising was not something she was used to do.

"I want to get off the streets and be respectable too. I guess I'm being a jealous bitch all over you, monsieur," she cocked her head to one side, and exhaled harshly. "It seems like that's what I do best these days," she rolled her eyes in annoyance and crossed her arms in front of her. Feuilly knew she was talking about Marius and that lovely maiden of his even when she didn't say anything further. They were all there when Marius announced that he managed to find the love of his life with the help of his gamine friend.

"You'll find the right person some day," he blurted out suddenly before he could even register what was happening. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but Feuilly immediately brushed it off with a smile. "I guess we're good then?" he asked and held out his hand at her for the second time. Eponine hesitated upon seeing his outstretched hand, looking down at her dirty palm. "Eponine?" he called gently, still holding out his hand. She looked up at his face, trying to say something but he just took her hand in his and gave her a firm handshake.

"Do you think I can be like you, monsieur?" she quickly let go off the handshake and kept her hands at her sides. "Being respectable, I mean," she added and sighed gently, as if she was dreaming of something.

"I don't see any reason you can't," he replied as he nodded his head firmly at her question. Eponine pressed her lips together and crossed her arms in front of her once again, seemingly deep in thought.

"For what is worth, I think you are a respectable person in your own right, Eponine," he mirrored her actions by crossing his arms as well.

"You sure speak of the funniest things, monsieur. First the talk of overthrowing the King and now calling a street rat like me respectable?" Eponine snorted and rolled her eyes at him.

"Please just call me Feuilly," he sighed at her stubbornness. "And no, I'm not talking nonsense. If you had just listened to what Enjolras had to say about the revolution," he said in a mocking reprimanding tone. Almost immediately the memory of her laughing at their leader's speech resurfaced, making him shudder involuntarily.

"You can't blame me monsieur," Eponine began, feeling her cheeks grew warm again in embarrassment. "Feuilly," he cut immediately. "I don't understand much what the pretty boy have to say. If I had been a student too, maybe I can understand," she continued in a lot lower volume, intending it to be for her ears only.

"I can tell you're a smart girl, Eponine. Marius said you know how to read. With some reading, I'm sure you can understand it all and a whole lot other things," Feuilly took a bold step and placed a hand on her shoulder, eliciting a curious glance from her.

"You think so?" she challenged him with a raised eyebrow, a playful smile tugging on her lips.

"That's how I learned. I read, a lot," he gave her shoulder a light squeeze before letting go, returning her smile with one of his own.

"That makes sense. I guess it was not nonsense when you talk about overthrowing the King. But you're still talking rubbish about me being respectable," Eponine wagged a finger at him, gradually began to enjoy the flow of the conversation. "If you have even the slightest idea of what I did, you wouldn't even dare calling me that," she laughed good-naturedly, which sounded far more pleasant than the one she let out at the Café Musain.

"You speak your mind instead of conforming to what the majority thinks. You chose to do whatever you want and love whoever you want despite what people have to say about that. And forgive me for saying this, but you take no shit from anyone. The kind of respect you have for yourself is admirable. In that sense, I think you are a respectable person,"

"I don't understand," Eponine blinked, although she visibly flushed at the compliment.

"Well, you did tell Enjolras straight in his face what you taught about the revolution when many others wouldn't even dare to say so. You chose to love Marius despite your circumstances and chose to help Marius find his beloved no matter how foolish anyone would think about that. And I heard from Marius how you stood up to your father's gang a couple of nights ago. It takes a lot of courage to do the things that you do," Feuilly explained patiently, not missing the faint smile that had made its way to her features.

"That's the nicest thing I've ever heard in a long time, Feuilly," Eponine held both hands to her cheeks to hide the blush on her face. She was used to insults and sarcasms, most of them courtesy of her father of course. To have someone she hardly knew saying nice things about her made her heart beat a bit faster than usual, especially when the words came from such a fine gentleman.

Eponine contemplated for a while before she cleared her throat in an attempt to make her voice sound less hoarse. "Do you think they'll let me at the meeting again? After what I did to pretty boy?" for once, she sounded genuinely concerned.

"I see no reason why they shouldn't let you come," Feuilly replied a little bit enthusiastically at her interest in the cause. "You can always ask me if there's anything that you don't understand," he added upon seeing the slightly troubled expression on her face. She grinned at the assurance, and patted him hard on his shoulder.

"So, when is the next meeting?" he did not miss the enthusiasm in her question.

"Tomorrow evening. For now, allow me to escort you home. I believe you live in the same building as Pontmercy?" he held out his hand to her, which she hastily accepted. He then took off his coat and draped it around her.

"So, tell me a little bit about your friends, Feuilly," she attempted to strike a conversation.

"Eponine, you have a charming laugh. But please don't ever laugh at Enjolras' speech ever nearly gave Joly a heart attack. Grantaire alone was enough," Feuilly said in a somewhat serious tone, much to her amusement.

"I'm afraid I can't promise you that. But I shall try my best,".

"Oh, and please don't ever call Enjolras 'Pretty Boy'. Not to his face, at least. Even Courfeyrac didn't need to learn the lesson twice,".

"I think I'm going to like it there," Eponine leaned closer against him and intertwined their fingers as they walked, not noticing the faint blush that had crept to his face.

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Well, hope you enjoyed it! PLease leave me a Review, thank you so much! Have a nice day, everyone! (^_^)


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